


subtle

by Areiton



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: College Student Peter Parker, Future Fic, Getting Together, M/M, Mutual Pining, Panties, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Pining, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Tony is Clueless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-14 16:55:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20195581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Areiton/pseuds/Areiton
Summary: Peter is not subtle.He wears his emotion, his excitement, like a flag waved bright red and teasing for a bull—impossible to go unnoticed, impossible to ignore.It’s adorable and it’s Peter, and it’s—in hindsight—why Tony misses the context clues.





	subtle

Peter is not subtle. 

He wears his emotion, his excitement, like a flag waved bright red and teasing for a bull—impossible to go unnoticed, impossible to ignore. 

He isn’t subtle and it’s not just science and pop culture and super-heroing. 

The first time Pete gets a crush on a girl after the internship starts, Tony knows a good three weeks before Peter finally tells him. It’s cute. 

It’s adorable and it’s Peter, and it’s—in hindsight—why Tony misses the context clues. 

~*~ 

He wears red. 

A hoodie paired with his jeans and black vans. 

A blue Midtown sweater with black pants and bright red sneakers. 

Red pants and a deep blue shirt with metallic hints that makes Tony pause and stare at him. 

There’s red too, in the lace he wears under his jeans. A deep red thong that goes under his suit and doesn’t match, not this suit. 

“Red looks good on you, kid,” Tony says, and Peter’s features tighten just a little. 

He remembers, at a Gala, before the Snap, before he came back and realized whatever had been between Tony and Ms Potts didn’t survive the end of the world—he remembers Pepper in a dazzling dark red gown with gold accents, and the way that Tony had watched her, his eyes bright and hungry and full of something it hurt to see. 

~*~ 

He finds a pair of panties in the kid’s room. 

Peter technically lives on campus but he spends more nights at the Tower than anywhere, crashing often enough that Tony finally kitted out the room and gave it to him, brushing off his effusive thanks—he didn’t want to be responsible for Queen’s favorite son falling to his death because he fell asleep webbing his way back to CUNY. 

He’s in there looking for Pete’s tablet, impatient to work on the aid drones they’d been developing, and he finds it—the tablet—under a pile of books, next to a crumpled pair of jeans and a spill of liquid red. 

The red makes him pause. Because that color is familiar. 

It yanks at him, at something he hasn’t let himself think about, and he hears Peter’s voice echoing through the penthouse and shoves the silk in his pocket, a flush high on his cheeks and goes to answer Peter’s call. 

~*~ 

It’s subtle, is the thing. 

Tony pushed him away, once, when he was young and stupid and crushing on his favorite superhero. 

But things have changed since then. This isn’t a boyhood crush. It isn’t a fleeting, here and gone kind of thing. 

This is the lynchpin of his life—the love he felt for Tony pulled the young, scared boy, the too brilliant scientist, the frustrated superhero, every bit of him, into order, tied them together, kept him from falling to pieces. 

Tony did that, and he loved him. 

And it’s subtle. It’s spending more and more time in Tony’s space until he’s invited to stay. It’s brief touches in the lab and the kitchen, until Tony reaches for him, rests against him during movies and leans over his shoulder in the lab and puts a hand on his hip when reaching for his coffee. 

And it’s this—wearing his red. 

Tony gave him a credit card when he moved into the dorms and another when he moved into the Tower, and he uses it, buys lace and silk and sweaters and ties, buys garters and even, once, lipstick. And sometimes—sometimes, he thinks he sees Tony watching him, hands in his pockets, and gaze unreadable, and he holds his breath and hopes—

It never turns into anything. Just Tony, twisting away and disappointment burning in his gut. 

~*~ 

He throws a party, when Peter graduates. 

He fingers red silk and comes across his belly, thinking of his boy, the one he allows himself to want, the one he sometimes thinks wants him. 

He fingers red silk that matches his suit and comes across his belly and tries to bask in the fantasy and not the fear of what will happen, now that he’s graduated and ready to face the world. 

He throws a party, and he smiles, pained behind his black glasses, in a deep blue suit with a bright red tie, and he thinks this is the beginning of the end. 

He throws a party when he feels like grieving, because Peter is leaving him. 

~*~ 

The room is still empty. Tony wanted to celebrate, and Peter agreed, so long as it was held at the Tower and his family—the Avengers, May, Ned, his classmates—were invited. Tony balked a little at Double D and Wade, but he didn’t mind them so much—they were good backup and since he wasn’t Ironman anymore, he was happy to have someone step into that role for his boy. 

But the room is empty, when he steps in, awaiting the guests and—

Not quite empty. 

Tony is there. 

Standing by the window, and staring out, and Peter takes a breath, steps out of the shadows. 

~*~ 

He sees Pete in the glass, a blurry reflection and he twists to smile, offer a drink, banish the lonely fear in his gut—

And freezes. 

Peter is—

He’s—

“You’re wearing my colors,” Tony rasps. 

Peter smiles for him, a gentle thing. He’s in a form fitting red suit, the deep burnished metallic red that he wore for so long. The buttons on his red shirt gleam golden, and the stitching, delicate and fine, is gold, the bow tie and his shoes—they’re all gold, that bright gaudy thing that JARVIS teased him about. 

He’s wearing a deep red lipstick and when he looks down, coy and beautiful and perfect, his eyelids glitter golden. 

His boy is here, where he should be, and wrapped in his colors and Tony groans and drags him close, hands trembling as Peter’s hands close on his shoulder. He fits, here, in his arms, the way he’s always fit in Tony’s life. 

“Baby,” he whispers and breathes the question across Pete’s lips. “What color are your panties?” 

Peter’s eyes are bright with mischief and relief and he wonders—how the hell had they both waited so long for this? 

“Wanna see?” Peter asks and Tony kisses him, against the glass of their tower and wrapped up in him. 

~*~ 

Peter is not subtle. 

He wears his emotion, his excitement, like a flag waved bright red and teasing for a bull—impossible to go unnoticed, impossible to ignore. 

He wears his emotion in deep red and bright gold and bruises on his pale pale skin. 

Tony—Tony grins, pleased and possessive, in red and deep blue and his hands never quite leaving Peter as they wander the reception and never quite focus on anything but each other. 

They aren’t subtle. 

It’s only fitting the rings, brilliant gold and deep blue vibranium, are just as unsubtle as the men who wear them. 


End file.
